


Phoenix

by bonerthatiusedtoknow



Series: Character studies, drabbles, and a bit o' this'n that [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Character Study, Drabble Collection, Gen, POV Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-26 13:29:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/966483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonerthatiusedtoknow/pseuds/bonerthatiusedtoknow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short character study of Charlie Bradbury 'cause we love her and because someone requested it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Phoenix

Red isn't her natural hair color, but it fits her well enough. It makes her feel strong, powerful, like the women in her fantasy worlds. She remembers picking out the box in a store one day, couldn't have been more than thirteen and all the world was no no no and cruel smiles and sharp words pushing down on her, stabbing at her, dimming her light. And then there was this box and the woman's hair was like a fire, like a beacon, a big wide world of yes and Charlie--a different name then, a different name for a different person--couldn't resist. 

The first time was a disaster, splotches of hair left untouched by dye, some areas darker than others where left in too long and not long enough. But she wore it like an olympic medal, stared right into people's faces and dared their tongues flick unkindness and their mouths to twist into those unnatural shapes, dared like she never had before because she was Charlie now. She was remade. She was this new thing, this smart, daring new thing that was quick witted and unashamed by her Princess Leia fantasies, that winked at girls and pickpocketed with alarming finese. She was a pheonix reborn from the ashes of a comatose mother and an absent father that was never worth very much anyway. 

And it still hurt, left a residue on her feathers that she couldn't wash away, always resurfacing just when she thought she had flown far enough away, had scrubbed hard enough. It took a long time to convince herself she was okay with that, that she could be Charlie with this new life she built for herself, that she could distance herself from the pain, the pile of ashes left behind. 

In the end it wasn't to be. She'd known when she met them that they would undo her, that secrets so long buried could never stay so when up against those whom made their livelihoods uncovering such things. She'd known it from the start, but terrifying as it was, their world was alluring and hypnotic, calling to her like a siren until she fell victim to the song.

She doesn't regret it. _The Hobbit_ is clutched tight in her fists, her arms are shaking and those and probably tears blurring her vision or maybe fatigue, hlshe doesn't know. Her mom's body is still as ever, unresponsive to her voice, no sign of life at all but for the steady metronome beep beep by her bed. This is it, there's no going back. Panic whispers to her heart, run run. She's tempted but only out of habit. Her hair is red, red like flame, like a beacon, a big wide world of yes and Charlie is unafraid. 

She murmurs a last goodbye and presses a lingering kiss to an identical brow. She is a pheonix, she will rise from the ashes.


End file.
